Valigerant
by EEevee
Summary: "I love you Matthew," Alfred whispered and Matthew gave a love-saturated smile, "It's just you and me Alfie. Understand? I can't trust anyone else in the world. Just you and me."


Title: Valigerant

Author: Eeevee

Rating: M

Warning: incestual issues, attempted rape, character death, yaoi

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story; this is a fanfiction and is purely for entertainment.

A/N: Umm, too many crime shows in Korea? No wonder the world is convinced all Americans own guns and kill people!

* * *

Alfred really didn't understand it; he just didn't. He just didn't understand why he was alone. Again. He didn't think he was a bad person. He didn't think he was a bad lover. He (occasionally) remembered important dates and had a bit of Romeo in him via some hard liquor and a good time. He really just didn't get it.

"It's okay Al."

He gave his brother a brave smile he didn't feel. No matter how many times he got dumped, Matthew was always there to pick up the pieces. Even if Alfred came wailing to him at 2 in the morning or came back from the bar wasted in a shitty attempt to forget his loneliness. Matthew would just give him a fond (and slightly exasperated) smile and usher him in to make him pancakes and rub his back.

Matthew was his rock.

The two boys had always been extremely close, especially as children. Where ever young, adventuresome Alfred toddled, Matthew was sure to be a few steps behind on his chubby, wobbly legs. As they got older Matthew faded more into the background. Alfred tried to remember him, tried to invite him in, but Matthew would give him that shy, sweet smile and begged to be left with his nose in a book.

Eventually Alfred stopped asking. But he treated his brother the same when they were home alone. They shared their room, their Nintendo, and their deepest secrets. Alfred loved his brother just the same. Matthew was his other half.

It was thrilling and just a bit awkward the first time they kissed. They were playing around and practicing for their girlfriends. Future girlfriends because they were only about thirteen at the time. Alfred hadn't been sure how this kissing thing was supposed to go but it really wasn't as interesting as tv made it out to be. Maybe because he was kissing his brother? They didn't experiment much after that, although Matthew suggested it a few times, staring at the ground and sounding half-hopeful and half-scared.

The older they got, the more Matthew retreated. He became elusive, avoiding Alfred with a flush and a quiet whisper. Alfred was hurt but he was a typical teenager. He had parties to go to and girls to date and sports to play.

On the off chance that the two boys spent time together, Matthew was awkward and quiet, fiddling with his fingers and humming with his beautiful eyes darting around to everywhere but Alfred. Alfred just gave a beaming smile and dragged him into a headlock to ruffle his hair and make him cry out. They were still brothers.

Matthew was the first person he told when he realized that he wasn't really all that interested in girls. No, he had found someone infinitely more interesting to him. Matthew looked startled then gave Alfred a shaky smile, saying something about how it must run in the family. Alfred just cocked an eyebrow but Matthew shook his head and ran off.

He and Arthur were a terrible match. They fought and bickered all the time. It was even worse when Arthur had been out drinking. But Alfred loved him and forgave him and actually enjoyed their bickering. It gave him a challenge, and when Arthur was being sweet, there was nothing better in the world for Alfred.

They went steady for months and months. The relationship was getting deeper and deeper. Alfred was really thinking that Arthur was the one. They were even talking about making it legit.

That's why Alfred was so shocked when Arthur broke it off.

He just… disappeared. No explanation, no good-bye, not fuck off you bloody sod. His work said he put in a transfer a week before he left and his family had no answers when Alfred asked. Not that they seemed to care or even like him, or Alfred for that matter. The police scoffed at his frantic missing person report, saying that men like Arthur disappeared on purpose, and he was running from taxes or debt or maybe he found a hooker to shack up with. It wasn't worth the state's money to look for someone who was probably just hiding.

That's when Alfred started mending his relationship with Matthew. He was heartbroken and had no one else to turn to.

He dropped out of his university and moved to Matthew's town and went to Matthew's school. The two brothers picked up like there had never been the strained rift of puberty and high school between them. They went back to sharing a room and a Nintendo and all their deep secrets.

Alfred eventually got over Arthur. Not completely of course. Arthur was his first love and there was a gaping hole in his chest where Arthur had ripped out a part of his heart. He couldn't believe Arthur was that cruel; he was sure something happened to him. But then he got a rather impersonal letter from England explaining everything.

Alfred tore it up in a fit of rage and moved on.

But he was more guarded. He went on some dates, he fucked a few guys, but it never amounted to anything serious. Matthew had hooked up with some big-breasted Ukrainian girl. Alfred liked her; she was sweet, perfect for his wallflower brother. It was the one bright spot in his life. He was delighted when Matthew announced they were getting married.

Eventually he got serious again. This time the man's name was Kiku. Really, he couldn't have fallen for someone less Arthur-like if he tried. And on the rare moments of self-reflections, he recognized the psychological mumbo-jumbo bullshit behind his new relationship. And he didn't care.

It had been several years since he let anyone in this close. He thought he might be ready.

He and Kiku rarely fought; Kiku rarely ever even raised his voice, and usually it was in outraged shock at something Alfred had done. Really, its not like it was the first time anyone ever got their ass pinched at the bar. Totally an over-reaction.

Even as well as they got along, Alfred wiggled around any solid commitments. He just had this feeling about it that made him uneasy. He didn't _think_ Kiku would leave him on a midnight run. But he hadn't _thought_ Arthur would have either. And look where that got him.

So one night he told Matthew about it, because Matthew was his brother, and if there was one person in the world he could trust, it would be Matthew.

But started acting oddly, more distant. He would be moody and spend more time with his family, who he professed himself to hate.

Alfred was hurt but he scrambled to make up the difference. He tried to be more affectionate, more considerate. Kiku because more reserved and colder, but there were rare moments where he lapsed into his sweet, loyal self, and it only made Alfred more determined. At one point he seemed to have been winning when abruptly Kiku became ill.

Alfred visited the hospital; he held Kiku's hand and pleaded. Kiku refused and asked Alfred to stay away from his family. One day he went in to find the room empty and Kiku's family gathered, speaking with the doctor. Yao had glared at Alfred and security removed him.

And Alfred disappeared into his home, his safe place, with only Matthew to comfort him. He'd sniffle and lamenant about how he thought they had been making progress. He'd rage and blame. Matthew weathered it all with a sweet, sad smile and murmurs that Alfred could do much better.

Eventually Alfred graduated and got a job as a police officer. He was energetic and enthusiastic about it and Matthew was constantly worried and unhappy. But he never said anything, even when Alfred moved to his own apartment. He assumed that Matthew and his finance would want some privacy.

He also swore that he'd stay too busy and be too tired to go dive in the bars. It was better that way. He was fine with being alone. He had his friends, his co-workers, his hand, and the occasional sloshed fuck to keep it together. And he managed admireably well until he met Toris.

Toris was an exchange student at the local university. He was too nice and started out as Alfred's roommate. Alfred wasn't sure when the line was crossed between roommate and lonesome fuck and then to pseudo-boyfriend then to going steady. He was a better at keeping their relationship hush-hush and all went well for quite awhile. Alfred felt content and mature. He felt like he could manage this; Toris was too gentle to crush his heart and throw it on the concrete.

He brought Toris to Matthew's wedding. He didn't say anything about it but it was pretty obvious to anyone who actually knew Alfred what was going on. Matthew saw Toris and frowned before giving a shy smile and introducing himself. Toris mentioned later on that he wasn't sure that Alfred and Matthew were actually brothers. Alfred mock pouted and wrestled him into the bedroom in response.

But this time he wasn't shocked when Toris left. Unlike Arthur and Kiku, he was man enough to say it to Alfred's face. He almost had a good reason too. His family was having trouble at home and needed his support. Given his kind nature, Alfred believed it. Toris was too guileless.

The last person Alfred expected to get into a relationship with was the brother of his brother's wife. Ivan and Alfred fought worse than he and Arthur ever had. Everything they did was passionate; fighting, loving, playing video games. They were close and Ivan had moved into Alfred's bed permanently within the month.

In fact, he was expecting Ivan home any minute, so when someone knocked on the door, he grumbled and chucked the controller to the side. Did he have to knock every time? It was his damn house too.

So Alfred was quite surprised to see his brother at the door. Matthew was eyeing him seriously, his hair flattened by the persistant drizzle and his shoulders slumped. Alfred gaped and Matthew gave a huge sigh.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, of course, yeah." Alfred tripped over himself to get out of the way and let his brother in. He watched as his brother dripped in the middle of the small bachelor's pad. When he gestured for Matthew to sit down, Matthew refused in his soft voice. Alfred got him a towel and a drink and the two spent some quality time together.

"Just like old times." Alfred chuckled happily as the two tangled together to watch some stupid movie. He tensed a little as Matthew ran his fingers through his unruly hair, playing with the stubborn cowlick. Matthew was dry and clean, contently humming and stroking soothingly. He cooed, "I love you Alfie."

Alfred jerked a little in alarm, "I love you too, bro."

Matthew shifted, pinning Alfred's legs and leaning closer, "More than Arthur?"

Alfred felt a quick stab of anger or hurt or maybe both, he couldn't tell, and he nodded.

"More than Kiku?"

Alfred tried to shift away but was trapped. He responded quickly anyway, "Of course, Matt, you're my brother."

"More than Toris?"

Alfred couldn't understand why Matthew was bringing those painful names into what had been a warm and pleasant atmosphere.

There was something in his tone, something dark and menacing, that made Alfred's mouth go dry. He licked his lips a few times and gave a nervous smile. Matthew gave a slick smile back, a not-Matthew-like smile, and leaned the rest of his body over Alfred pinning his hips as well as his legs. His fingers were now caressing Alfred's face.

"More than Toris?" he repeated, an edge to his voice.

"Yes," Alfred whispered, a flash of dread shooting through his veins, freezing them. This was the kind of feeling he got during a shootout, where he knew nothing was going to turn out alright. His stomach felt like it was flipped and twisted.

Alfred wasn't the kind of man who relied overly much on thinking. He moved on intuition, and it made him a great cop. But tonight… tonight his intuition and his brain were both racing in a panic.

"More than Ivan?" Matthew purred making Alfred gulp meekly. He tried to push his brother off with no success. He winced as Matthew tilted forward, tightening his grip. Something clicked and he felt fake fur brush his wrists.

Alfred stared down in shock. Partly because those things belonged on criminals and mostly because the pink leopard print was very jarring against his tan, smooth skin. They were gaudy and sickening and now he was bound.

"Matt," he chuckled nervously, "What's the deal here?"

"Do you?"

"Do I…?" Alfred prompted, making another effort to get free.

"Love me more than Ivan, silly."

"Ahaha," Alfred gasped as Matthew's hand started wandering around his person, "This isn't funny anymore."

He wiggled and squirmed but was reluctant to raise a hand, even if his instincts were screaming at him to fight. Matthew was his brother. Matthew wouldn't hurt him, and he couldn't hurt Matthew.

"It never was, Alfie." Matthew replied solemnly, "I love you so much. More than Arthur, more than Kiku, more than Toris. I will never leave you. And you will never leave me, right?"

Alfred could feel the ominous weight of his brother's words pressing down on him, driving the air out of his lungs and stifling him. They clung to him like a sticky, icy film.

"What did you do?" Alfred whispered, suddenly worried, "Where's Ivan?"

"Ivan, Ivan, Ivan." Matthew spat in a rage and added venomously, "I knew it! You love him more than you love me. You loved all of them more than me! That's why they had to go, don't you understand? I'm your brother. I know you, you know me. It's you and me. You have to know this. Of course you do. You never ignored me. Not for long. Because you're the only one who loves me."

"What did you do?" Alfred whispered with his blue eyes wide, "What did you do?"

"To Arthur?" a mirthless chuckle came from Matthew's chapped lips, "Nothing. Nothing the drunk bastard didn't deserve. Maybe less than he deserved for laying a hand on you."

"It was one time…" Alfred protested in shock, "He was drunk! We had a fight…"

"He _touched_ you. He didn't love you when you were his punching bag." Matthew hissed, his pale eyes narrowed in bottomless anger. Abruptly it winked out and Matthew took a calming breath, returning to a reasonable voice, "Arthur was an accident in any case. I just happened to not roll him over in time. What a grotesque way to die, but fitting for an abusive alcoholic, I think."

Alfred couldn't blink. It felt like his eyelids were glued to his brow and he worked the muscles in his throat but only whimpers came out.

"You let him drown in his own vomit?"

Matthew shrugged, his face blank and unforgiving, "He hit you."

"And Kiku?" Alfred's stomach rolled, but he had to know.

"Oh, that was on purpose," Matthew shrugged again, "He was cheating on you. You know that right?"

Alfred didn't. It was like another punch to his already abused gut. He gagged a little and tugged on the handcuffs. They were solid and Matthew looked pleased as he settled on Alfred's lap.

"Did you know it was possible to OD on Viagra? They really should put death as a side effect on the label." Matthew giggled.

"And… and Toris?"

Matthew blinked and slow, serene smile spread across his face. His eyelid fluttered and his lips curved delicately, "Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

Matthew continued smiling.

"I didn't kill him if that's what you're asking. I merely facilitated his return to his home country." Matthew nodded sagely, "It is where he belongs."

"Why? Why did you do it?" Alfred felt numb. The fear was bleeding away leaving anger. All of his suffering… worse, all of his lovers' suffering, was caused by his rock, the one person he thought would never hurt him.

"Because I love you and want the best for you. A drunk and a fornicator and an illegal immigrant hardly count as the best." Matthew tsked and Alfred flinched as a blatant erection pressed against his jean-clad legs, "Haven't I always been there? Haven't I always loved you unconditionally? Haven't I always supported you?"

Alfred swallowed the fear and rage, feeling the ball of emotions pool down by his brother. He tensed his legs and Matthew moved for better leverage. Alfred ignored him and mustered up a stern frowned. It was his I'm-a-cop-and-you're-fucked frown he used when he handed out tickets.

"Of course I love you. How stupid to think I don't! But that's a different kind of love. You're my brother!"

Matthew's mood abruptly shifted and he twisted his fingers in Alfred's hair, ripping it back with a sharp jerk. He flew into an uncontrollable, frothing rage, yanking and tugging and screaming obscenities at Alfred, at his victims, at the unfairness of the world that ignored him. He howled and failed like he was possesses, smashing in Alfred's nose and covering the two of them in bright blood. It flecked his face and made his white, rolling eye tantrum terrifying.

Alfred was used to his brother exploding. It was only natural when he kept all of his disappointment and slights and annoyances bottled up. But he had never seen Matthew so unhinged. This wasn't his brother; this was a wild, mindless animal bent on destruction and possession. The intensity and passion made Alfred cringe back as best he could, thrusting his shoulders out and ducking his head to protect himself.

He wondered if he would be joining Arthur in a shallow, unmarked grave.

Matthew abruptly stilled and a big sigh escaped him. He leaned forward, burying his nose in Alfred's neck and whispered lovingly, "Alfie."

Alfred waited.

"You are so naïve. How can you be so naïve?" Matthew mocked softly, teasingly, "You know nothing."

His hands loosened from Alfred's scalp, which was missing several tufts of hair and would be stinging horribly if Alfred could feel anything. He ran his fingers over Alfred's shoulders and started working on the buttons. Alfred tried to move away, and Matthew dug his fingernails into his chest. Blood seeped up to fill the crescent marks. Matthew paused then continued to disrobe the prone man.

"Matthew, I know you're my only brother. I know we have a bond. I know that I love you deeply." Alfred said with deliberation.

Matthew grinned with pleasure and grabbed at Alfred's crotch, fondling and grasping. He had managed to get the button undone and ran his fingernail hard over the thin cotton underwear barrier between them.

"But you murdered people. That's plain wrong." Alfred accused and bit his lip until blood leaked down his chin over the dried blood from his nose. He pushed his bound hands against Matthew's and swung with an outraged rebuttal, "You didn't murder them for me, you murdered them for you. For your own perverted desires! That's sick."

Matthew flicked down below a little too hard to be pleasurable then gave a feather-light stroke in punishment.

"You need to turn yourself in." Alfred gasped.

"Right now? And leave you in this pretty package? Pants down, half hard, and in fuzzy hand cuffs?" Matthew giggled again, "I don't think that's a good idea. It would be rude of me to start something and not finish. Besides, no one knows about this but you."

Alfred's eyes widened with panic at the implications. His throat was thick with the returning fear and bile. No one knew… no one but him…

Matthew waited patiently, idly playing with a pebbled nipple, as it sunk in.

"I would be easy for you to disappear." Matthew continued, "But then I would have to go as well. I can't live without you. I don't want to live without you."

Alfred was silent.

"Have you ever googled 'double suicide?' People are quite creative." Matthew leaned down and gave a lick and Alfred shuddered. He rolled his head back, gathering himself up. He was still hesitant to hit his brother, although now he was wary of getting his brains blown out.

"Enlightened me."

Alfred steeled himself and sat forward to press a chaste kiss on Matthew's cheek. He could feel the dried blood gritty between them and Matthew's hands striping away the last bit of clothing shielding his modesty.

"Well…"

Alfred wiggled around allowing Matthew to undress him complete. Lifting his hips and spreading to the best of his ability.

"I love you Matthew," Alfred whispered and Matthew gave a love-saturated smile, "It's just you and me Alfie. Understand? I can't trust anyone else in the world. Just you and me."

Before Matthew could continue, he coiled his body and struck. His body was hard and honed and there hadn't been a defense course offered by the police station that he hadn't taken. He struck hard and fast, the apartment ringing as bone was cracked and furniture splintering. Matthew didn't fight back; he took each blow with a hurt, miserable look.

With a particularly vicious blow to the back of the knees, Matthew toppled down. His head smashed into the corner the solid maple coffee table, Alfred's only piece of real furniture and a gift from their parents, before crumpling on the carpet, unmoving.

"Matt?" Alfred questioned and toed the prone form. He sunk down on his knees over his brother. Matthew still didn't move. Blood trickled sluggishly down his temple and his eyes were cloudy, "Matt, Matt, I love you. Please…" Alfred didn't know what to say, so he just lay down next to his brother, his pants still down and his hands still cuffed together.

Ivan came home hours later. He smelled of vodka and entered the house with an excuse that he had been forced to go out with his coworkers. His heavy footsteps stopped and Alfred was vaguely aware of strong hands dragging him into a sitting position.

"Alfred, please tell me what happened." Ivan's voice pierced the numb fog surrounding him. He pitched forward, crying, "Matthew."

Ivan's big hand patted him comforting on the back and words stabbed at his heart, "I am sorry. Stay here for a moment while I go see the police. I hear the sirens now."

Alfred gave a stiff nod, not really wanting to let go, but knowing that someone needed to greet the police or they would enter as if there was still a threat. Plus, they would be able to remove his cuffs and… and Matthew's body. He wished Ivan had taken the time to put him back together physically. His pants were twisted down at his knees and his underwear was bunched under his buttocks. His shirt was the least embarrassing, still hanging off his shoulders. He could practically taste the sympathy and pity he would face soon enough. It made him throw up.

After all that had happened, the thought of being considered marginalized made him hurl. He felt weak and violated and there was a gaping, agonizing hole in his chest at the loss of his brother. He killed his brother. He was a murderer! He was a criminal. A sick, twisted piece of scum who didn't know the value of human life. It wasn't even fair to call it self-defense. He should've remembered how fragile Matthew was, how strong he was in comparison. He had been trying to disable him and murdered him instead, just like a monster.

He was a fratricide monster.

He was so wrapped up in his shock and desolation he barely registered the door opening or the few seconds of deafening blast that tore through his body. A few last seconds of scorching heat, excruciating pain, indescribable loss, and endless desperation.

* * *

"You cannot blame yourself brother."

Ivan brushed his sister's hand off. He knew it was cruel. She was hurting too. But he couldn't take his eyes off the big, bright bunch of yellow sunflowers perched on a newly set gravestone. The dirt beneath his feet was fresh and damp.

"You should go back now. The doctor said…"

"Leave me alone." Ivan growled and winced as the pain shot through him. He really shouldn't have left the hospital so soon. His injuries were extensive. He was glad when she left. He and Alfred could finally be alone.

He sat with his back against the grave and the sunflowers in his lap against his chest. He poured out his despair and loneliness. He pulled a small pistol from beneath his coat. It was cold and heavy in his good hand. His fingers slide across the hammer, the trigger, the barrel. He considered. He spoke to Alfred some more, picturing the man's sky blue eyes and sunshine smile. He placed the muzzle beneath his chin, angling it just so. It was pleasant against his chilled flesh. Comfortable even. Like an old friend… or lover.

"Don't do it man." Alfred's voice echoed around him, "That's what Matthew would want. He wants to hurt you. He wants to hurt me."

"He killed you." Ivan mumbled, wondering if this was a morphine-induced hallucination. "He did hurt you."

"Well, I'm not hurting now, buddy. I'm good. But it hurts me to see you like this." Alfred's voice said seriously with a hint of disapproval in it. "And it'll hurt your sisters; they love you. Like I loved Matthew. Don't do this to them, please."

Ivan considered and lowered the gun slowly. It rested, still cocked, in his lap. He patted it like a pet and shifted.

"Don't let him win."

Ivan sighed with exhaustion and pain. He made to throw the gun away but guilt stayed his hand. Instead he eyed the gun. It was sleek, dark, and modern. Alfred was quite the fan of guns. He had begged Ivan for this one a few times in the past and he regretted not giving it to him now. Maybe if Alfred had a gun… just maybe… this never would have happened.

Ivan knew this was illogical; the bomb had been set and would've gone off regardless. It was obvious Matthew had never intended to let either of them leave that house alive. It was pure luck Ivan had gone out and only caught a part of the blast.

Slowly he raised the gun again. It was a halting, shaky progress. The pain was washing over him in waves. Crippling, burning pain searing every nerve ending. Most of his body was covered in burns, he had lost half his right hand and the remaining fingers were charcoal, and his right ear was probably on the neighbor's roof.

"I can't Alfred." Ivan tried to whisper. It came out a gurgle and made him gag. "I have to do this."

The shot rang out in the silent graveyard bring his sister and several staff members running. But his aim had been flawless and the sunflowers fell across the small smile on his face.


End file.
